


The Right Thing to Say

by Evie_adams273



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Draco being a good parent, Gen, Nightmare, Trying, am i stretching for tags?, apology, candle, father - Freeform, hermione's office, middle of the night, tea and coffee, turning away, yes. yes i am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 05:10:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19192444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evie_adams273/pseuds/Evie_adams273
Summary: Weeks after returning from 1981, Draco visits Hermione to make an apology that he feels is years too late.





	The Right Thing to Say

Draco knocked on the door apprehensively. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say when it opened, but the overwhelming need to say something had been gnawing at him every day since Scorpius had gone back to Hogwarts.

He had been reluctant to let his son return to school only three weeks after they had returned from 1981, but Scorpius had insisted multiple times. Draco had only relented when his son had pointed out that he needed to see Albus, and Albus likely needed to see him. He knew how much his son’s friend meant to him. He had always known and, even if he hadn’t, Scorpius had come back from hell with the strength he had gotten from thoughts of Albus.

When Scorpius had returned to school, Draco had found his time suddenly became emptier again, and he had much more time to think than he desired. The same thoughts had returned to him constantly, plaguing his mind for a reason as to why his dreams had changed so violently.

He was, he had to admit, ashamed of himself that it had taken twenty-two years for him to feel a need to apologise with the sincerity that he was about to. He had apologised for his actions before, but there had been no particular meaning behind the words he had used. He understood now, or he was beginning to understand.  
He took a deep breath as the door opened and he walked in, smiling at the woman sat behind the desk. She was wearing the same deep purple dress that she had been wearing when he had last seen her, though her smile was a little lighter.  
“Draco,” Hermione Granger looked up at him, a shadow of concern crossing her face. “Are you okay?”  
“Yes,” Draco nodded. “Would you happen to have a few minutes? I need to – apologise – for something.”  
“What do you have to apologise for?”  
“A lot.”

* * *

 

_“She…” Scorpius trailed off, looking up at the ceiling as his hands began to shake, almost uncontrollably._

_Draco took his son’s hands gently, trying to reassure him that he was safe. Scorpius looked at him, a tear starting to trickle down his cheek, and Draco pulled his son into another gentle hug._   
_He was immensely grateful that his son trusted him enough to confide in him about what had happened on the Quidditch Pitch, and did not try to rush him. He knew how difficult it was to speak about, and was surprised that it had only taken Scorpius a week or two to feel even vaguely comfortable about speaking about it. He was very aware that their relationship was a literal strained, and though he had not pushed his son, he had noticed a difference in his behavior since he had returned from the Dark Lord’s world._   
_“The prophecy,” Scorpius croaked, “because of Albus…she…the Cruciatus Curse…I…”_

_Draco felt his stomach lurch as Scorpius started to stand up. He was still processing the information a moment later, when Scorpius’ knees buckled and he crashed to the floor. He dived to catch him, cradling his son in his arms as Scorpius shook and sobbed into his shoulder._

* * *

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Hermione smiled at him gently. “You look exhausted. Have you been sleeping?”  
“Not much,” Draco admitted. “Listen. I – I’d like to apologise for what happened at Malfoy Manor.”

Hermione frowned and Draco paused, not wanting to force the memories upon her. He knew that was a bad idea. She needed to find it on her own. When her shoulders tensed slightly and she looked at him, he took a breath and made to continue. She spoke first.  
“You apologised before,” she said quietly. “After the Battle of Hogwarts, you apologised to me.”

Draco paused before continuing. The Battle of Hogwarts was somewhat fresh in his mind, and it scared him because, after all the moments where he had tried to make the right decision, he had tried to kill people. He had tried to kill the woman in front of him. He had been a coward.  
“I didn’t understand,” he murmured. “I apologised, because I’d done the wrong thing and I was aware of that, but I didn’t really understand.”  
“We were children,” Hermione said quietly. “Let’s face it, Draco. We were children. You apologised and you have worked so hard to make sure that sort of horror stopped.”  
“I didn’t succeed,” Draco nearly found himself snapping. He took a breath, drawing himself back. “Sorry.”

Hermione nodded and began to fiddle with one of the rings on his fingers. Each one meant something specific. Fiddling with his wedding ring helped him think clearly when his thoughts were too crowded. It was almost as if Astoria were there beside him, smiling softly, promising it would be okay.

* * *

_“It’s okay,” Draco murmured in Scorpius’ ear. “It’s going to be okay.”_

_He held Scorpius gently, rocking him back and forth gently as he started to hum quietly. It was a song that Astoria had always hummed whenever she was cheerful, though it was quite melancholy in tone. He didn’t know why it was the song that came to him, but it helped him. It cleared his mind, and he needed a clear mind. He needed to help his son._   
_Scorpius was still sobbing, curled in his father’s arms, and Draco held him. He knew that Scorpius was scared, and what he needed was to feel safe. If this helped him, then Draco knew that he was willing to continue doing it for eternity._   
_“I thought,” Scorpius whispered, “I thought…I would never…never see you…”_   
_“I know,” Draco murmured. “I know. I’m so sorry.”_

* * *

Hermione eyed Draco, somewhat suspiciously, in the silence, and he looked away, trying to put his reasons into words. For the second time, she got there first with something to prompt him.

“What happened?” she asked. “Something happened.”  
“I’ve had time to think.”

It was half of the truth. He didn’t mention what had prompted his weeks of constant thought, or why it was tearing his mind apart so much. Before he explained that, he needed to process what had happened the night that Scorpius had begun to explain what had happened. And to process that, he needed to process his anger and hatred for the woman who had hurt his child.  
“Ginny told me what happened,” Hermione said quietly. “Albus told her what happened on the Quidditch Pitch and she summarised it for me. For the legal records.”  
“Do they go towards making sure that monster never leaves Azkaban?” Draco ground out through gritted teeth.  
“They do,” Hermione nodded.  
“Good.”  
“May I ask what happened?”

* * *

_Later that night, after Scorpius had fallen asleep in his father’s arms, Draco carried his son upstairs and laid him in his bed gently. He smiled softly at Scorpius’ sleeping form, grateful that he had been able to fall asleep. If they were lucky, very lucky, he would not get too many nightmares. But they would have to be very lucky._

_He did not want to leave the room, but he was well aware that he needed to sleep as well, if only because he needed to be able to help Scorpius when he woke up again. So, he lit the candle beside the bed and kissed his son’s forehead before leaving the room slowly. Scorpius would be okay. He had to promise himself that._

_He walked through to the bedroom next door. Technically, it was a spare room, a guest bedroom, but Draco wanted to be close to Scorpius. He left the door open, lighting another candle on the table opposite to indicate where he was. If Scorpius woke up in the night, he wanted him to know where he was._

_He lay down slowly, staring up at the ceiling. Every time he closed his eyes, anger threatened to bubble over inside him. Anger at Delphi for hurting his son, scaring his child, destroying part of the most important person in his life. He wished that he had done more in the church than insult her. She deserved more than that._

_And at the same time, he knew that hurting her would have simply scared Scorpius more. He couldn’t do that. He needed to be a beacon for his son. That was what was most important._

* * *

Draco closed his eyes at Hermione’s question, taking another breath. His apology wouldn’t make sense without an explanation, but, at the same time, he did not want to discuss something that Scorpius may not have been happy to have discussed.

“We were more than children,” Draco murmured, speaking more to himself than Hermione.  
“Pardon?”  
“Adults fought that war,” Draco muttered. “We left ourselves behind, and now what?”  
“Now, we try to keep living,” Hermione said gently. “Draco, it’s been twenty-two years.”  
“That’s the point,” Draco hit a train of thought. “It has been twenty-two years, but it’s all coming back. We’ve been caught in it again. Our children have been caught up in it.”  
“I’m sorry, Draco,” Hermione said. “I kept the Time-Turner. Rose told Albus. I’m sorry that Scorpius was involved in this.”  
“I’m sorry I kept that thing,” Draco spat. “I could have told you. We wouldn’t be sat here.”

Hermione nodded, standing up and walking towards a cupboard. She opened it slowly, pulling out two mugs and a kettle. The water inside it sloshed around as she placed it over the fire, before putting tea bags into the mugs.  
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “Your apology does mean a lot.”  
“I should have said it years ago,” Draco looked at the desk.  
“You said before, you didn’t understand. And it’s easier not to understand what the Cruciatus Curse does. Let’s face it.”

* * *

_**I stand in the corner of the room, watching the scene play out in front of me. Hermione Granger is lying on the floor, sobbing and writhing in pain. Bellatrix Lestrange, some strange, monstrous, unhuman version of her, stands over her, twirling her wand gleefully.** _   
_**“Please…” Hermione sobs. “Please…we didn’t…please…”** _

_**I turn away, gazing out the window. There isn’t much to see through the ever-present fog, but I can’t keep watching – that. Mother steps behind me, taking my hand gently. She smiles at me when I look at her. I don’t return it.** _   
_**“Is it them?” she murmurs. “Is it Potter?”** _   
_**“I can’t be sure,” I mutter again.** _

_**Lies.** _

_**Mother nods again, and I try not to flinch as Hermione’s screams ring through the room again. I can’t stop Bellatrix, so I have to listen, even if I don’t watch. And I have to find a way to stop myself from shaking.** _

_**The screams stop eventually, replaced again by Bellatrix’s hissed interrogation. Hermione keeps begging and pleading, but nothing changes. Rather unsurprisingly. I try and think about something else, try to occupy my thoughts. Light. I need to find a light.** _

_**I need to find a light in the darkness.** _

_**When the screams begin again, there is something different about them. Hermione’s screams are still there, as terrifying as ever. But a deeper, more desperate, more lively scream rings through, alongside the sound.** _

_**Hermione is, I imagine, exhausted, spent, having been tortured for what feels like hours. But this new sound is awake, fresh, almost more terrifying. I recognise the voice. I don’t know who it is. It’s almost as if they are someone I will know, but cannot know yet. Which doesn’t make sense.** _

_**I turn around, my stomach sinking further at the sight of Hermione, writhing and screaming on the floor again. Bellatrix is kneeling over her, holding her wrists down. And behind them, stands Astoria Greengrass.** _

_**I stare at her, curiosity overcoming me as she walks towards me, placing her hands on my cheek. Her touch, for some reason, is incredibly comforting, and I lean into it, closing my eyes. For a moment, everything is quiet and calm, and the screaming is all but blocked out. Only for a moment, however.** _

_**She leans up to kiss me on the cheek softly and I smile, taking her hands. She smiles at me again and then leans towards me again.** _   
_**“Our son needs your help,” she whispers. “Draco. Our son needs your help.”** _

* * *

“I had a nightmare,” Draco said, becoming aware of how stupid it sounded as he spoke, “about a week and a half after we came back. Scorpius told me what happened and that night…” he trailed off, unable to form the words.  
“You had a flashback to Malfoy Manor?” Hermione frowned slightly, standing up again as steam shot out the kettle, which was whistling shrilly.

Draco nodded as Hermione poured the steaming water into the two mugs on the desk before sitting down again, passing Draco’s mug to him.  
“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Draco looked at her again silently. It was reasonably obvious that she still did not entirely understand and Draco sighed. The full horror of the nightmare the he had had was still with him, almost stopping him from forming the words necessary to speak about it.  
“When I stood there,” he said quietly, “watching, I just looked away. I blocked it out. I’m sorry. I was a coward.”  
“You were a child,” Hermione said again. “You didn’t have much choice in the situation.”  
“Please don’t,” Draco winced as he picked up his mug, but he didn’t put it down again. “Please do not make excuses for me. I should have stopped them. I should have done something more than I did.”

Hermione made to say something more, but she remained silent, nodding. Draco sighed, shaking his head. He had come to say one thing, and he was regretting not planning his words. He was beginning to ramble, something he hated doing due to the lack of control that normally ensued.  
“I am sorry that I did not do more to help you after what you went through,” he said curtly, accidentally reverting back to his more formal self. “I should have done more, and I hope that I can make up for at least some of my mistakes now.”  
“Draco,” Hermione smiled softly at him. “You are forgiven. You always have been. It wasn’t your fault. Your life was on the line too.”

Draco nodded, sipping the last dregs of tea from his cup. He placed it down on the table, standing up again. It cut the conversation a little short, but he felt incredibly uncomfortable with the formality he had just brought into the room.  
“Thank you,” he said.  
“I’ll see you soon?”  
“Probably.”

He walked towards the door, opening it slowly. One last look back at Hermione. And then he walked out into the Ministry, trying not to concentrate too hard.

* * *

_Draco sat up sharply, the shadow of Astoria’s hand on his cheek still shimmering on his cheek. The remnants of the dream, the nightmare, were still flashing through his head, and he pulled the duvet back sharply as Astoria’ words came back to him. She had told him that Scorpius needed help. Why that had woken him, he wasn’t sure. He knew that Scorpius needed him._

_And then there was the screaming, the screaming that had mixed with Hermione’s. The screams that he hadn’t recognised. The screams that were still echoing around him._

_He swore, throwing himself out of the bed and out into the corridor. True to his fears, it got louder as he stumbled to a halt outside Scorpius’ room. He pushed the door open slowly; he didn’t want to scare his son more if he was awake._

_At a glance, it did look as if he was awake, because he was lying flat on his back, his eyes wide open, staring upwards. But, as Draco drew closer, attempting to be quick while not making too many sudden movements, he saw the glassiness of the stare, the rigidness of his son’s limbs. And then Scorpius started to scream again, thrashing around._

_Draco hurried to Scorpius, taking his shoulder in a way that he hoped was gentle. He shook Scorpius slightly, trying to wake him up, and when Scorpius didn’t respond, he began to attempt, not more violently, but more forcefully._

_Every time that Scorpius thrashed around more, his arms became more and more tangled in the bedsheets, which had become effectively a long rope that continued to twist around his limbs._   
_“Scorpius,” Draco said. “Scorpius!”_

_Scorpius’ hand shot out to the side suddenly, knocking the still-burning candle onto the floor. Draco dived after it, stamping the flame out before it caught alight properly._   
_“Dad?”_

_Draco breathed out in relief, looking up at the bed. Scorpius was sitting up, sweat dripping from his forehead as he looked around nervously. His exhaustion was obvious as his eyes began to drift closed slightly; it was an obvious effort for him to keep them open._   
_“Scorpius,” Draco stood up quickly, crouching again beside his son. “Are you all right?”_   
_Scorpius nodded slowly. “Bad dream,” he mumbled, looking away._

_Draco nodded, trying to smile softly, trying to reassure his son that everything would be all right. And he couldn’t even do that._   
_“Do you think you’ll be okay?” he asked, cursing internally for repeating himself._   
_“Don’t go,” Scorpius said quickly, his eyes flashing with terror. “Please…”_   
_“I’m not going anywhere,” Draco promised. “Here.”_

_He stood up, trying to pull the duvet away from where it was tangled around Scorpius’ arms. Scorpius helped slowly, his hands shaking. Draco took his hands gently, perching on the edge of the bed. Scorpius leaned into him, burying his face in his shoulder. Draco held him tightly, a tear trickling down his cheek. Scorpius was shaking with fear._

_Draco bit his lip and picked Scorpius up gently, allowing his son to curl up in his arms. Scorpius looked up at him, a look of vague curiosity crossing his face as Draco carried him out of his bedroom and next door into the room he had been sleeping in._

_Scorpius frowned at him as he sat down on the bed, laying Scorpius down gently. Draco sat next to him, taking his hand again._   
_“I wanted to make sure I was close to you,” he explained._

_Scorpius nodded, pulling the duvet over himself and staring up at the ceiling. Draco leaned back against the bedframe, stroking Scorpius’ hair gently. Scorpius’ eyes closed slowly as he drifted back into what Draco hoped was a peaceful sleep._

_Draco did not go back to sleep. He could not shake the fact that he had dreamt about an event that had happened twenty-two years, that he had assumed had just faded into a distant, incredibly unpleasant memory. He had been scared and, while he didn’t like to admit it, he had been scared almost constantly. For weeks._

_He shook himself. He needed to sleep. Scorpius was beside him, alive and all right in the broadest of terms. Draco was aware that, come morning, he would need to be a beacon for Scorpius, and for that, he needed sleep._

_He was reasonably confident that he wouldn’t have another nightmare. Scorpius made him feel much braver than he had ever really been. He would be okay. He was Scorpius’ rock. And, while he wasn’t likely to be aware of the fact, Scorpius was Draco’s._

_The reason he had been dreaming about that day, that particular moment, could wait. It could all wait for another time._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks you reading.  
> Comments/feedback and kudos very welcome


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